Clarity
by CrimsonRegret478
Summary: The Kirkland-Jones family is picture perfect. That is, until it all comes down when a series of threats arrive at their doorstep. Can this family stay together or will it fall apart? Sequel to Blurred. USxUK, AU, M for language
1. Countries

**We meet again after only a few days! I got this out relatively quick because I knew I wouldn't have time tomorrow or the next day. And it's the weekend! Stupid homework... Anyway, this is just a chapter to get things going so it might not be very interesting and it's short. I hope you enjoy anyway!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. I told you copyright people that in the last story!**

**Warnings: None for now :) Except for the fact that I used the Translator for some of the languages (except for Spanish). So I apologize if I messed up. But we shall have more warnings in later chapters.**

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><p><strong>Clarity<strong>

**Chapter One**

**Countries**

Ayden sat on the floor, giggling and grabbing at something that wasn't there. The child began to clap his hands, clearly amused.

Ayden giggled again, squealing with delight.

Alfred watched the four year old with perplexity. What in the world was his son looking at? The American didn't see anything. Alfred observed further as Ayden wobbled to his feet and walked away towards the kitchen.

The American followed and saw that Arthur had picked him up. Alfred watched as Arthur pointed to the air, telling Ayden something in his ear. Ayden then waved and giggled.

"What are you two looking at?" Alfred decided to finally speak up, tired of being kept in the dark.

"Well, it seems our son has inherited my ability to see magical creatures," Arthur smiled, kissing the child on his temple.

"Really? Huh. That's pretty cool," Alfred smiled back.

"Bunny! The green bunny's flying! Father, can't you see it, too?" Ayden exclaimed.

"No, son, I don't have that privilege," Alfred mussed Ayden's hair.

"Really? How come?"

"I don't know," Alfred shrugged. "I don't have that gift."

"Aww! You'd really like the bunny, Father! It's so nice!" Ayden grinned, reaching for thin air again as if he was trying to catch it. Well, at least to Alfred it was thin air.

"Love, we'll have to play with the bunny later. Right now we have to get ready to go. Remember when I told you that your father and I have a meeting to go to and that we need you to be on your very best behavior?" Arthur looked at his son intently and used the gentlest of tones but his eyes showed that he was being serious about what he was saying.

"I remember, Papa. I'll be good," Ayden nodded.

"There's a good lad. Now, you'd better go get dressed so we can make it on time. Do you want one of us to help you?" Arthur set Ayden to his feet.

"No, I can do it! I'm a big boy!" the boy then ran to his room.

As the child disappeared, Arthur sighed, feeling nostalgic, "It seems like it was just yesterday that we brought him home from the hospital. He's only four and already so independent."

Alfred laughed a little at how motherly the Englishman was sounding and moved to wrap his arms around the blonde's waist and brought him close, "Don't worry, Arthur. He's still a kid. He needs us no matter how independent you or he thinks he is."

Arthur turned to face his husband, raising an eyebrow, "Did Alfred F. Jones, the most headstrong, oblivious person that I've ever met… just say something wise? I'm speechless."

Alfred blinked a little. "Huh?"

"Nothing, love, don't worry about it," Arthur chuckled and placed a kiss on the taller man's cheek. "Like Ayden, we'd better get ready. The meeting starts in another hour or so."

"Oh, but, _Arthur!" _Alfred griped. "I don't wanna go!"

Arthur found it useless to try and correct the American's grammar and nearly burst out laughing when the latter puffed his cheeks out to show his dissatisfaction ('nearly' being the key word).

The Englishman simply chuckled, "Your four year old son is more excited than you are."

"Yeah, but he's a kid! I've been to thousands of these things and they're boring!" Alfred huffed.

"Well, you'd better get used to them, dear. You have a _long_ way to go," Arthur shrugged, making his way up the stairs.

Alfred sighed.

* * *

><p>"You'd think we were going to the opera, but we're just going to a meeting," Alfred, now fully dressed in his suit, was checking to make sure his son had no trouble getting ready.<p>

"Do you think Uncle Francis and Uncle Matthew will be there? What about Mr. Kiku?" Ayden asked excitedly as he finished pulling on a green polo, one that brought out the emerald in his eyes.

"Yup, I'm pretty sure they will be," Alfred nodded, watching the boy.

Ayden grinned as he slipped on his socks and shoes. Those three were some of his best friends among the countries. Everyone was really nice to him and even brought him treats sometimes! Well, maybe not Natalya. She scared him…

He tried to tie the shoelaces but was having some difficulty doing so. He sighed, a little embarrassed that he still couldn't get it right on the first try.

"Father…" Ayden spoke meekly with crimson tinting his cheeks lightly, "do you think you could…"

"Sure," Alfred smiled and knelt down beside his son and tied the laces with ease.

"Thank you…" Ayden said, staring at his shoes.

He just didn't understand. His papa and father had been teaching him how to tie his shoes but he couldn't seem to get it right! He had been able to learn everything else so quickly…

"Hey, chin up, okay? You'll get it. You're a smart kid," Alfred lifted his son's chin tenderly.

"But you and Papa have been trying to teach me for so long. What if other kids my age can do it but I can't? It's embarrassing…" the boy's honey bangs fell in his face.

"Ayden," Alfred began in a soft voice, "everyone learns things at different times. Don't worry, you'll get it. Practice makes perfect."

The boy nodded and smiled. He loved his parents so much. They always knew how to cheer him up.

"Are we all ready to go?" Arthur stood in the doorjamb, smiling at the scene.

"Yup," Alfred nodded. "Wait, how long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough," Arthur answered as his smile widened.

* * *

><p>"Uncle Francis! Uncle Matthew!" Ayden ran to the two countries and hugged them.<p>

_"Bonjour, petit,"_ Francis smiled.

"Hello, my favorite nephew," Matthew picked up the child, his cobalt eyes shining.

"I'm your only nephew!" Ayden grinned.

"That is very true," Matthew nodded. "But still my favorite!"

The Canadian began tickling Ayden and the child's laughter filled the room, bringing smiles to even the most stoic of nation's faces.

"Ah, and if it isn't my good friends, Amerique and Angleterre," Francis turned to Ayden's parents.

"Save it, frog," Arthur narrowed his eyes a little.

"Angleterre, you wound me!" Francis said with mock hurt, placing his hand over his heart.

Arthur rolled his eyes and Alfred laughed at the duo's (mostly Arthur's) bickering. Their rivalry never ceased to amuse him. The American then turned to his brother. The incident four years ago was long forgotten.

And it was to remain that way.

Matthew set his nephew to his feet when Ayden had requested that he see Kiku, Feliciano and Ludwig.

"Hello!" the child greeted.

"_Ve~!_ You are getting so big, _piccolo!"_ Feliciano brought Ayden into a hug and released.

"Ayden!" a child's voice could be heard.

Said boy turned around only to be tackled by a girl with auburn curls and bright amber eyes. The girl, who was only younger than the British-American child by eight months, grinned at Ayden.

A light blush crawled across Ayden's face, "H-Hello, Ilaria."

"_Hola,_ Ayden!" she continued to beam.

"She's just as cheerful as you are, Antonio," Arthur watched the two with a small smile.

The Spaniard who had just walked in simply laughed while his Italian lover rolled his eyes.

"Did she get anything from you, Lovino?" Alfred joined Antonio in a fit of laughter.

"_Si,"_ Antonio answered. "His temper."

Lovino glared.

"Of course, I wouldn't have it any other way! Isn't that right, mi amor?" the Spaniard quickly rebounded.

Lovino rolled his eyes again and Antonio placed a kiss on the man's cheek, causing said man to blush.

"All right, we'd better get started so we can leave early," Ludwig already sounded irritated.

Alfred and Arthur looked at Ayden who had already retreated to a chair in the corner of the room with Ilaria, sifting through the bag he had brought with him full of things he could do to entertain himself for the next hour… or two. But it was never as fun as when his father started talking about superheroes or when his papa and Uncle Francis started arguing.

Yes, the countries truly were a sight to see.

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><p><strong>Ve~! Little Ayden and Ilaria!<strong>

**Too cute to resist, right? Lol!**

**Ayden and Ilaria: We are! :D**

**Me: Tell that to the readers!**

**Hope you enjoyed!**

**Please review!**

**More chapters coming out soon (I hope)! But they will get posted one way or another!**

**Arigatou!**

**Hasta la Pasta~**


	2. Senya

**Haha, well, here is the second chapter. I got it out much sooner than I expected, which is good, right? X'D**

**Oh and on a side note, thanks to the help a great friend, I have changed what Ayden personifies. Instead of Alderney Island, he will represent St. John of the Virgin Islands :D**

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I. Don't. Own. Anything. So quit asking, stupid copyright people...**

**Warning(s): None for now unless you're not a shipper of USxUK or Franada. And if you're not a shipper of those two, why are you still reading? XD**

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><p><strong>Clarity<strong>

**Chapter Two**

**Senya**

The meeting ended once again without any resolution due to one simple problem: some of the countries that had attended were acting like they were Ayden and Ilaria's age or younger. And much to the dismay of the nations that were acting their age or just being grumpy that day, the meeting ran past the original time it was supposed to end.

Ayden and Ilaria were being held in their "mother's" arms fast asleep. The conference had run right into the children's naptime. After they were dismissed, Alfred collected all of Ayden's belongings and quickly placed them in the bag his son had brought and slung it over his shoulder.

Arthur stood with Ayden still in his arms, leaving the room with Alfred trailing behind him.

Sapphire eyes flittered open early the next morning, before the sun even revealed itself on the horizon. In the darkness of the room, the American could picture the Briton that was sleeping peacefully in his arms. He couldn't believe it. He would once again be leaving.

Why was he a firefighter again?

Oh yeah.

He wanted to be a hero.

But… that was before Arthur- before Ayden.

That dream was set long before he even thought of settling down and having a family.

A slight shift of his body was all that was needed for Arthur to be disturbed from his slumber. But the Briton did not move and neither did Alfred. The only move Alfred made was to kiss the Briton's head.

They both knew.

However, there was no point in dragging out the inevitable. Arthur eased himself out of Alfred's embrace and sat up, looking at the American to do the same. Alfred slid out of bed and began getting dressed for the day while Arthur travelled downstairs and into the kitchen.

Once being clad in his firefighter uniform, excluding his jacket and helmet, the American joined his lover in the kitchen where the Englishman had already brewed a cup of tea for himself and a cup of coffee for Alfred.

The younger smiled and sat at the stool in front of the island in the center of the room. "Thanks."

Arthur nodded, smiling in his cup. But then that smiled faded. "How long?"

Alfred stopped before raising his mug to his lips and placed it back down on the counter. Those two words were the only ones he needed to hear to know what Arthur meant.

"Two to three days. Four at the max," Alfred replied, watching the steam rise from the liquid.

"I see," Arthur said. "You know he misses you, right? It's never the same when you're not here."

Alfred clenched the mug in his hands but held back so he wouldn't shatter it. "I know… I hate leaving you two like this…"

Arthur smiled and moved to kiss the American lovingly on the lips.

"You'd better say goodbye to him."

Alfred nodded and made his way back upstairs where he knelt down beside Ayden's bed, watching his son sleep in the dim light of the room. He waited a few moments before placing his hand softly on the child's head.

"Ayden," he whispered.

Said boy's eyes slowly opened, sleepily looking at Alfred. "Father? What's wrong?"

Alfred simply smiled but it was a small, sad one.

After his vision had cleared, Ayden's eyes drifted to his father's clothes and immediately recognized the standard firefighter uniform. The child's eyes almost became a solid blue, displaying his sadness that his father was leaving again. Ayden sat up, watching the American.

"You'll come back, right?" Ayden's voice was full of hope.

"Of course I'll come back," Alfred replied. "But… even if something does happen to me… do you remember what I've always told you?"

Ayden nodded, "You're never far away."

"Right; because I'm where?"

"Here," Ayden pointed to the left side of his chest- to his thrumming heart.

"Exactly. And you're here," Alfred pointed to his own thundering one. "Both you and your papa are."

"I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you, too. But you know what? When I get back, we are going to go and do whatever you want to do. It'll be just the three of us having fun together. How does that sound?" Alfred ended his sentence with a smile.

Ayden's face instantly lit up, "That sounds great!"

Alfred kissed the top of his son's head and brought the boy into a hug.

"I love you, Father."

"I love you, too, son."

Arthur watched the scene with a tender gaze. He knew how much Alfred didn't want to go and how hard it was for Ayden to say goodbye. All three knew the risks of his job. But somehow, Alfred always managed to douse the fires of doubt in their hearts by returning home.

* * *

><p>Francis was the only one awake of the two nations. Matthew was sleeping soundly in his arms, enjoying the warmth his lover gave him. However, Francis was cold.<p>

Colder than he ever felt before.

The memories of four years ago haunted his mind and kept replaying over and over. It was a nightmare that he would never wake up from. Those malevolent violet eyes had etched itself into the Frenchman's mind and had no intention of leaving soon. He would never forget the animalistic, bloodthirsty grin on Matthew's face.

It was so out of place but yet fit perfectly.

Images of when he first saw such a smile flashed through his head...

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><p>"<em>Matthew, what could be so important that you spend hours on end looking at it?" Francis questioned, gazing over Matthew's shoulder at a now black screen.<em>

"_I was just… watching a video, that's all," Matthew smiled innocently, his amethyst eyes shimmering with the same look._

_Francis raised an eyebrow, "Matthew, are you sure you're all right?"_

"_I've never been better," Matthew continued to smile._

_There was something off about the Canadian's smile and Francis noticed this. However, he said nothing of it. The Frenchman thought it was his imagination overreacting or something along those lines._

_Never did he think that his sweet Canadian would turn out to be a beast on the inside._

_When the Canadian crawled into bed beside him that night, Francis felt as if he was holding a stranger with unknown intentions. The dark aura emanating from Matthew was suffocating. It nearly put Ivan's brooding impression to shame._

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><p>Francis remembered holding Matthew in his arms on the floor when the Canadian had regained consciousness. And Matthew had burst into tears, clinging to Francis for dear life, begging the Frenchman to help him.<p>

"_Don't let him, Francis! I can't take it anymore! He's hurt everyone I love! Please don't let him do it!"_

It pained Francis to see other nation like this. That monster was tearing Matthew apart and there was nothing he could do but be there for the Canadian. And when the police came to take Matthew into custody, Matthew fought with all his might to get back to Francis.

The Frenchman was the only one keeping him sane, the only one who would keep him from falling into the darkness again. Matthew kept saying that it hurt- that the darkness was hurting him. Matthew was saying this through his tears as the officers dragged him away.

Francis tried reasoning with the officers but they would only allow Francis to be with Matthew on the drive to the station and nothing more. They would be separated after that but Matthew wasn't having it. The Canadian didn't care if he went to jail or not. He just wanted Francis to be there.

To save him from himself.

Francis didn't want Matthew to go through any more than he had to so a few minutes of convincing Matthew that everything was going to be all right was permitted. From that point on, they led Matthew to his cell where he would be staying for the next five months until his sentencing.

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><p><em>Those five months were hell to Matthew. Each passing day, each tick of the clock was drawn out to an excruciatingly slow pace. And each day without Francis was drawing Matthew closer and closer to the edge. The same cell that was isolating him from the outside world was not containing the darkness inside his heart.<em>

_He remembered when he first began hating his brother. He remembered the first drop of the poison called envy tainted his heart._

_A child._

_That's when it all began._

_When they were children at the orphanage._

_Alfred had always been the one who had all the attention amongst their friends. Alfred would try to include Matthew in their games, the Canadian would always be forgotten and soon enough, Alfred forgot that he was there, too._

_Even the teachers forgot he was there. When it came to academic achievements, Alfred and Matthew were on a completely different level. The Canadian would pass with flying colors while his American brother would barely make it with an average grade._

_Still, the teachers failed to notice his grades and would always reprimand Alfred about raising his own. This made Matthew hate Alfred more than he already did._

_Soon, the Canadian started refusing Alfred's invitations to go out and play and isolated himself in his room, wallowing in his animosity. But out of that animosity, a creature was born. An unholy creature._

_Matthew recalled when he first saw it in his room, sitting in the corner, dressed in all black. It looked exactly like him but its hair was longer and darker and the curl was missing. But what stood out most to Matthew were its eyes and teeth. The creature's eyes were amethyst and the teeth were like an animal's- jagged and sharp._

_It was human but then again, Matthew knew it wasn't._

_He approached it carefully._

"Hello, Matthew," _it sneered sinisterly. It had a child's voice but it didn't suit its looks._

"W-Who are you?" _the child questioned, holding Kumajiro closer to his chest._

"I'm your friend," _it replied, standing._

"My friend?" _Matthew scoffed. _"I don't have any friends. My brother has them. He took them from me."

_The creature now had a sympathetic look on its face._ "Don't worry, Matthew. I'll be your friend. And Alfred will never be able to take me away from you because he isn't as cool as you. You're the best."

_Matthew had heard those words but they were never directed at him. Always at Alfred._

"Friends?" _the creature held out its hand, revealing cat-like fingernails._

"Friends," _Matthew shook it, smiling._

I finally have a friend and you can't have him, Alfred, _Matthew thought._

_However, the child didn't know that it was a decision he would regret._

_Days passed and Alfred began seeing less and less of his brother. When Alfred did see the boy, it was always for a short amount of time. Matthew would periodically run into the kitchen and make two sandwiches and hurry back to his room or grab a video game or movie._

_It was nearly time for bed and Alfred was heading to his room when he caught the sounds of giggling. Peeking through the small crack between the door and the frame, he saw his brother sitting on the floor and talking to himself._

_But Alfred was receiving bad vibes from Matthew's room. The child narrowed his eyes to try and get a better look without opening the door further and saw that there was indeed someone accompanying his brother. However, Alfred saw it as nothing more than a shadow figure and it was this shadow that was frightening him._

_It loomed over Matthew like a cloak._

_Then, Matthew's head whipped around, glaring daggers at Alfred._

"What do you want?" _Matthew demanded as he swung his door open._

"N-Nothing. I was just wondering who you were talking to," _Alfred took a step back._

"It's none of your business! He's my friend and you can't have him!" _Matthew slammed the door in Alfred's face._

_Alfred stayed away from his brother after that, not liking the way that the shadow hung around. It was always at the Canadian's side, becoming more prominent when Matthew was angered._

_But the voice… the voice wouldn't leave him alone. That same voice he trusted for all those years began betraying him and telling him to do horrible things to the ones he cared about._

_It knew that Matthew was there and that he was listening._

_It mocked him and said heinous things about him- about how weak he was and that he shouldn't have lost to his brother, especially when the American didn't have any memories and was practically powerless._

_But one thing that struck Matthew as odd was when that same voice said it would take matters into its own hands. Matthew questioned what that meant but the voice never replied again._

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><p>When the duo found out that Alfred had woken up and was not going to press charges… they were relieved. Matthew had fallen to his knees and began crying. No words could express how grateful he was to his brother. Even after all that had happened, Alfred wasn't holding him accountable.<p>

And for that, Matthew was eternally in the American's debt.

And so was Francis.

As the Frenchman stared into the darkness of the room, he felt Matthew nuzzle in closer to him and the grip the Canadian had on his shirt became tighter as if Matthew was afraid of Francis leaving him even in his sleep. The older blonde brought Matthew closer and kissed the Canadian's head.

* * *

><p>"Uncle Francis!" Ayden hugged the Frenchman.<p>

"_Bonjour, petit,"_ Francis returned the hug.

Arthur watched the two with Ayden's bag slung over his shoulder. Francis looked up at the Englishman, _"Bonjour_ Angleterre."

"Hello," Arthur nodded. "Sorry that this is such short notice. My boss has a habit of calling me to get work done at the last minute. Are you sure that you can watch him until I get back? When do you have to leave?"

"Not until next week, _mon ami._ We don't get to see Ayden very much so Matthew and I decided to have an extended vacation after the meeting," Francis replied, taking the bag when Arthur held it out to him.

"I see. Well, I appreciate you doing this," Arthur said.

"It was no trouble at all. Ayden is in good hands," Francis smiled.

The Englishman knelt down to his son, "Behave yourself, okay? I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Okay, Papa," Ayden nodded, hugging Arthur.

Arthur kissed his son on the forehead and smiled. "Have fun."

"I will," Ayden grinned.

And with a final goodbye, Arthur left.

"Where's Uncle Matthew?" Ayden wondered, looking around.

"He's still sleeping. He's been very tired lately for some reason," Francis answered as he set Ayden's bag down and went to wake his lover up.

"Oh, okay," Ayden took out a _Lion King_ coloring book and crayons and sat himself at the small table in the suite. As he colored Simba and Nala, the child kept glancing around nervously.

Why did he have the feeling that he was being watched?

* * *

><p><strong>So now you know why Matthew hates Alfred and how he snapped and what happened that night four years ago, etc., etc. Two songs played a very important role for inspiration while I wrote this and that is "Senya" from the Naruto Shippuden OST 2 and "Shiver" by the Gazette. Those songs are freaking amazing :)<strong>

**Hope you enjoyed the Franada part of the story.**

**Oh and a great big shout out to Blue Wallpaper and Kitty Faerie for giving ideas! I really ****appreciate it!**

**Ayden: *hugs you both***

**Well, until next time! :D**

**Hasta la Pasta~**


	3. Bittersweet

**Hola, everyone! Another chapter! I hope you enjoy this one ;D I'm going to try and update every weekend since those seem to be the only days I can upload. Well, I have a butt load of homework and I need to get started on it... NOT! XD I'm a horrible student- either that or I haven't learned not to procrastinate and I'm pretty sure it's the latter. All well. Live and let live. Anyway, hope you enjoy!**

**Warnings: USxUK, violence, darkness, angst, etc.**

**Disclaimer: I will never own Hetalia unless I magically happen to have the rights to own it. Which is a work in progress. Maybe I get England to teach me some magic...**

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><p><strong>Clarity<strong>

**Chapter Three**

**Bittersweet**

Ayden continued coloring Simba despite the feeling he had. Then, some movement caught his eye. He turned his gaze away from the page and saw a child sitting beside him and was smiling.

"H-Hi…" Ayden said.

"Hello, child. What're you doing?" the child looked over at Ayden's work.

"Oh, I'm coloring Simba from the Lion King. It's my favorite movie ever!" Ayden grinned as he picked up a brown crayon to color the fur tip of Simba's tail.

"Well, you know, the Lion King is my favorite movie, too."

"Really? That's so cool! My favorite character is Simba!" Ayden was very intrigued by this new person but noticed something. "You know… you kinda look like my Uncle Matthew. Are you his brother or something? That means you're my daddy's brother, too. You know my daddy, right?"

"Yes. I know your dad very well."

"But I've never seen you before. Why don't you visit?" Ayden's head tilted to the side.

"You see, your dad and I aren't on exactly good terms. In fact, he hates me."

"But you're so nice! My daddy would never hate anyone- especially someone who is as nice as you are," surprise shone in the boy's eyes.

"I know. It made me sad when your dad said he didn't want to be my friend anymore…"

"I'll be your friend," Ayden offered.

"That would make me very happy. But I don't know if your dad will let me."

"It'll be our secret. My daddy doesn't have to know," Ayden lowered his voice.

"But won't he be angry with you?"

"No. My daddy is really nice, like I said. I don't think he'll be mad at me," Ayden smiled.

"Okay. Friends?" the child held out his hand and Ayden was a little taken aback with he saw cat-like fingernails. But he shook the child's hand anyway.

"Friends; oh, and what should I call you? Do you have a name?"

"My name is Matt," the child grinned, showing jagged, animalistic teeth but Ayden didn't seem to notice. To him, they were pearly white human teeth.

"Hi, Matt. My name is Ayden."

"I know."

* * *

><p>When Arthur arrived to pick up his son, Ayden hardly said a word to him other than hello. This left the Englishman puzzled. His child would usually be chatting his ear off by this point. However, Arthur let it be, figuring Ayden was just tired.<p>

"So, Ayden," Arthur began on the silent car drive home and glanced every few seconds in the rear view mirror, "did you have a good time with Uncle Francis and Uncle Matthew?"

The boy nodded.

"What did you three do?"

"Nothing, really. Uncle Matthew was tired so he slept most of the time and Uncle Francis was taking care of both him and me," Ayden replied.

"I see. So nothing interesting happened?"

"No."

"All right then."

Arthur sensed that something was definitely off about his son. And he was going to find out.

"Ayden, are you sure you're all right?" Arthur asked once they entered their home.

"I'm okay."

"Did something happen today? Something that you don't want to tell me about? You know you can tell me anything, right?" Arthur knelt down so he could be at eye level with his son.

"Nothing happened, Papa."

"Ayden," Arthur's voice took a stern tone, "you know I don't like liars. Are you telling me the truth?"

The boy nodded though his teal eyes still showed secrecy and began shuffling his feet a bit.

"Promise?" Arthur pressed.

"Promise."

Arthur waited a few moments to see if Ayden would speak again but the boy remained silent. Arthur sighed. "All right. Run along, then. Go get ready for bed."

The child nodded and ran up the stairs.

* * *

><p>"<em>So you had a good day?"<em>

"It was all right. I got called in at the last minute to finish up some paperwork but other than that it was a good day," Arthur answered as he sat at the kitchen table, talking to Alfred over the phone. "And shouldn't you be working?"

"_I had a bit of free time so I thought I would sneak a call in,"_ Alfred laughed.

Arthur only shook his head with a smile, "Alfred Jones, you'd better not get in trouble."

"_Don't worry, it'll be fine. Anyway, how's Ayden?"_

"He's… fine, I suppose."

"_You sound unsure. What happened?"_

"Well, when I picked him up from where Francis is staying, he was very quiet. You know how talkative he is. Of course I questioned him about it but he was being just as stubborn as you are. I may be overreacting but I find it odd. He's usually so full of things to say," Arthur explained, watching the stairs as if he expected Ayden to come down any second.

"_I'm sure he's fine. No need to worry. I'll be home in a few days and then everything will be back to normal."_

"Maybe if you talk to him you can get him to tell you something. He's hiding something, Alfred. I just know it."

"_All right, I'll talk to him."_

"I'll see if he's still awake," Arthur made his way up the stairs and to Ayden's room.

The Englishman was about to knock on the door but paused when he heard his son's voice.

"_I don't like lying to my papa… it makes me feel bad…"_

There was a pause.

"_Well of course I want you to stay. You're my friend."_

Another pause.

"_I'm sure if you just gave them the chance to get to know you, they won't be angry. Father and Papa are really nice. They'll like you."_

Arthur listened closer.

Was he hearing whispers?

"_No, my daddy would never hurt anyone… did he say why he didn't want to be your friend anymore?"_

More whispers.

"_You just became friends with Uncle Matthew instead?"_

Murmurs…

"_I won't tell anyone. It'll be our secret, like I said."_

Arthur couldn't believe what he was hearing. Being one who saw magical creatures on a regular basis, Ayden talking to himself or having an imaginary friend was nothing to fuss over.

But this… this was a whole new level.

The one his son was talking to practically emitted darkness and hatred. In fact, it seemed to be the very thing it thrived on. To the naked eye, it seemed to be just a shadow in the corner of the dimly lit room that Ayden was giving his attention to.

However, with Arthur's eyes, he saw a sinister creature that had taken the form of a human being with mauve eyes. Fear coursed through Arthur's veins. He didn't like this. Not one bit.

"Ayden?" he knocked on the door before entering. "Your father's on the phone. Did you want to talk to him?"

"Yeah!" Ayden seemed happier now as he took the phone from the Englishman. "Hi, Father!"

"_Hey, champ! How's it going?"_

"It's going good."

"_I heard you went to Francis's today. Did you have fun?"_

"I sure did."

"_What did you do over there?"_

"I finished my coloring book!" Ayden smiled.

"That's great! Did you do it all by yourself or did you have help?"

"I had my friend Ma-," but then the child halted mid-sentence. And didn't speak again.

"_Ayden? Everything okay?"_

"Y-Yeah… I had a friend help me," Ayden rebounded after a few seconds.

"_Oh really? Who's your friend?"_

"Umm…" the child didn't know what to do. He didn't want to lose his friend but he didn't want to lie to his parents either. So he decided to avoid the subject altogether. "I'm really tired, Daddy. Can I talk to you later?"

"…_sure. Good night, kiddo."_

"Good night, Daddy. I love you."

"_Love you, too."_

After that, Ayden handed the phone back to Arthur and crawled into his bed. Arthur hung up with Alfred shortly after that and went to sit on Ayden's bed, stroking his son's hair back. The Englishman was thoroughly concerned.

"Ayden, love, are you all right?"

The child just kept staring into the corner of the room and bit his lip in anxiety. Only once a few minutes pass before Ayden even acknowledged Arthur was there.

"I-I'm okay, Papa…" Ayden hugged the Englishman.

Arthur hesitated but placed a soft kiss on his son's head and turned off the bedside lamp. "All right, love. Get some rest. Remember, I'm not far away if you need me. I'm just down the hall."

Ayden nodded and nestled back down in the covers again. "Papa, could you leave the closet light on for me? Please?"

"Of course," Arthur flipped up the switch and light flooded the room. He closed the door to where a small beam was shining. "Better?"

Ayden nodded, smiling.

"Good night, love. Pleasant dreams."

"Good night, Papa. Love you."

"Love you, too," Arthur then shut the door and made his way to his room, feeling a sudden wave of nausea hit.

The Englishman rushed to the bathroom and disposed of his stomach's contents. Arthur sat on the tile floor and ran his hands through his now damp hair. There was only one reason he could think of and this made him smile and place his hand on his stomach.

After the test, there was no doubt.

He thought back to the one night that he and Alfred had some time alone…

That was about a week ago.

Arthur's smile became brighter.

He couldn't wait to tell his family.

* * *

><p>A loud wail shook Arthur from his sleep.<p>

"_Go away! Leave me alone!"_

The Englishman bounded out of bed and sprinted to Ayden's room and tore open the door, only to find his child clutching his arm in pain. Blood seeped through the boy's hand and trailed down onto the sheets.

Arthur turned on the light, "Ayden, what happened!"

The boy's only response was to jump into his papa's arms and continue crying while holding his injured arm. The Englishman glanced around the room, noticing the absence of the threatening aura. Arthur carried Ayden to the bathroom and placed the four year old on the toilet.

"Ayden let me see."

Ayden removed his blood stained hand to reveal three nasty gashes on his tiny arm. Without trying to panic, Arthur moved swiftly and silently to try and clean the wounds; Ayden watched his papa work and sniffled every now and then.

Arthur wiped away his son's tears, "Ayden who did this to you?"

"M-Matt…"

The Englishman was a little taken aback. "Who?"

"Matt… he-he's supposed to be my new friend… but he hurt me…"

"Just now?"

Ayden nodded, bringing up his good arm to cover his eyes and weep. Arthur froze. That must've been the dark entity he saw in Ayden's room just hours ago. Arthur brought his son into his protective hold and allowed the child to cry out his fears.

"He won't hurt you again, love. I'm here now," Arthur whispered as he sat on his bed, resting against the headboard with Ayden resting on his chest.

"Papa, I'm scared…" Ayden mumbled in Arthur's shirt.

Arthur began stroking his son's head, trying to bring comfort and ease his boy into sleep's embrace. And began singing in the gentlest and sweetest of tones.

_"My precious one, my tiny one, lay down your pretty head._

_My dearest one, my sleepy one, it's time to go to bed._

_My precious one, my darling one; don't let your lashes weep._

_My cherished one, my weary one, it's time to go to sleep._

_Just bow your head and give your cares to me._

_Just close your eyes and fall into the sweetest dream, cause in my loving arms_

_You're safe as you will ever be so hush my dear and sleep._

_And in your dreams you'll ride on angel's wings._

_Dance with the stars and touch the face of God_

_And if you should awake I'll send you back to sleep._

_My precious one, my tiny one, I'll kiss your little cheek_

_And underneath the smiling moon I'll sing you back to sleep."_

Ayden's peaceful breathing was the only sound in the room after that. Arthur held his son close and stared out and into the moon. He hoped Alfred would get home soon.

But his hopes went unrealized.

* * *

><p>Sunlight deluged the room, causing Arthur to stir. The Englishman's eyes fluttered open, Ayden being the first thing he saw. The child was buried in his chest and was grasping onto him tightly for he feared that Arthur would disappear during the night.<p>

However, as Arthur laid there, the all too familiar nausea crashed into him and he ran into the bathroom to get rid of what little his stomach contained. This disturbed Ayden and the sleepy child opened his eyes for a few seconds before rolling back over and settling back in the covers.

Arthur leaned against the sink for support.

How could he possibly forget the morning sickness?

But… it would be worth it in the end. Arthur brought his hand to his stomach and rubbed small circles over it which brought a smile to his lips.

Another child.

Another blessing.

* * *

><p>Matthew knew something was wrong.<p>

Something was missing…

He had been in bed and mulling it over all day; he just couldn't put his finger on it. When he felt like he knew, it immediately slipped his mind- his now sane mind. It had been so long since he had lucidity in his grasp, so long since he last welcomed it with a smile.

But that was problem.

He didn't feel the darkness.

He didn't feel the hatred.

He didn't feel… _it._

It was like it had completely vanished.

Ever since Ayden left their hotel room…

Matthew then shot up, eyes wide with disbelief.

He only hoped he was wrong.

* * *

><p><strong>*huggles Ayden* We still love you!<strong>

**Ta da~! So Artie is pregnant again! Will it be another boy or another girl? You'll just have to wait nine months to see or if I decide to reveal it to you all in between that time frame.**

**Please, please review! I enjoy them! :D**

**Arigatou!**

**Hasta la Pasta~**

**P.S. Calling all fans of Romano and Italy (and those who are just curious)! I just found the BEST VIDEO OF ROMANO AND ITALY DANCING EVER! Go ahead! Watch it! It's AMAZING! I had a spaz attack from the cute/hotness. Click the link. Trust me. It's worth it. Or that's my opinion. X'D**

**Here's the link (just erase the spaces):**

**http:/ .com/ watch?v=5I9ObP40L-8&feature= channel_video_title**


	4. Descending

**All righty, I'm going to try and stick with my weekend updates so here's another chapter. It's short but it gets things going. It's odd, really. The title and the plot I have for the story contradict one another because things are about to get really hazy and dark. So much for 'Clarity', right? /shot.**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia in any way, shape, or form or America and England would be together already. And has that happened yet? No, but I'm working on it.**

**Warnings: USxUK, and... something at the end.**

* * *

><p><strong>Clarity<strong>

**Chapter Four**

**Descending**

"Father, you're home!" Ayden jumped into Alfred's arms the moment the American walked through the front door. Alfred caught his son, laughing all the while.

"Hey there, champ!" Alfred mussed Ayden's hair then he immediately noticed the white gauze wrapped around the boy's arm and was about to question when Ayden began dragging him towards the kitchen.

"Father, Papa wants to talk to you! Actually, he wants to talk to both of us! He said it's really important!" Ayden explained.

Alfred smiled and followed the boy.

Arthur was indeed in the kitchen as Ayden said he was; the Englishman was sitting at the table and just began raising the cup of tea to his lips when he heard his husband and child enter the room which caused him to smile.

"Hello, love," Arthur placed the cup down on the table and moved towards Alfred and said American snaked his arms around the sunny blonde's waist. "Glad you made it home safely."

Alfred kissed Arthur softly, "Glad I did, too."

"Papa," Ayden tugged on Arthur's pant leg and his mouth was full of the muffin that he was currently eating, "what were 'rou going to tell us?"

Arthur raised an eyebrow but had a playful glint in his eyes, "Ayden, you know better than to talk with your mouth full."

Ayden swallowed, "Sorry, Papa. But please tell us! I really want to know!"

Alfred looked at Arthur expectantly, his face echoing Ayden's words.

And all Arthur did was simply take the American's hand and place it on his stomach, waiting for it to register in the taller man's brain. And once it did…

Alfred's smile couldn't have grown any wider.

And Ayden, well… was just confused.

* * *

><p>The months had passed and Arthur's stomach was beginning to swell once again, displaying the life that was growing inside him. Ayden was just as ecstatic about it now as he was when his parents first told him. He was going to have a baby sister! He was going to have someone else to play with!<p>

Both Alfred and Arthur had taken the boy with him to the first sonogram and Ayden was absolutely fascinated by it. He couldn't believe it; right there, on that screen, was his little sister (though they didn't know it at the time).

Of course, on the way home, Ayden bombarded the duo with question after question which Alfred and Arthur expected. Their son was quite the curious one.

_I'll be the best big brother ever!_ Ayden thought with conviction as he was playing with his toys.

Quietly running down the stairs when he heard the front door open and close, he saw Alfred carrying in bags of groceries. "Father, can I help?"

Alfred smiled, "Sure- here."

The American handed Ayden the bag with 2 loaves of bread in it while he carried the rest. Ayden headed to the kitchen and set the bag on the counter with the others.

"Where's your papa?" Alfred asked, starting to put up the groceries.

"He's sleeping," Ayden replied, pulling open the refrigerator door to try and put the eggs inside but he ended up needing Alfred's assistance lest he break them. "He said he was tired and I told him to go and take a nap. He didn't want to at first but he went to sleep."

"Oh okay," Alfred nodded. "Then I guess we'd better go wake him up, huh?"

Alfred's mischievous side was beginning to reveal itself, thus giving the American (stupidity) impulses to go and wake up his husband. And though Ayden was unaware of this, one was never supposed to wake Arthur up from his naps. Ever. Unless one was seeking to meet a premature end.

And Alfred was a glutton for punishment.

Ayden followed his father up the stairs and into the room his parents shared. Just like Ayden said, there was the little Englishman nestled in the covers, looking content and peaceful. Alfred knelt down beside Arthur and placed a soft kiss on the shorter man's temple.

"Artie…" Alfred whispered and said man stirred before settling once more.

The American brushed his lips across Arthur's cheek before leaving a trail of feather kisses along the latter's cheek. "Artie."

"Mmm…" Arthur mumbled, turning over in his sleep. "Alfred, not now…"

"Aww, why?"

"Tired…" Arthur muttered, his words slurring together. "Don't wanna get up…"

Alfred smiled, _"Please?_ For me?"

"No…" Arthur drawled, hitting the American with a pillow.

Alfred laughed, "Oh come on, Artie!"

Said Englishman's eyes shot open, his emerald orbs like ice, "You want to die young, don't you?"

"You love me too much," Alfred grinned.

"That I do…" Arthur sighed, his eyes becoming soft. "Where's Ayden?"

"Right here," Ayden crawled onto the bed as Arthur sat up. "Did you sleep well, Papa?"

"Well, I was until someone rudely interrupted it," Arthur glared daggers at his American husband and this only caused the younger to grin triumphantly. Arthur rolled his eyes but then was staring at his stomach.

"What happened? Did she kick?" Alfred wondered, watching the Englishman intently.

"Yes. She did," Arthur nodded.

"Can I feel, Papa?" Ayden asked excitedly.

"Of course you can, love," Arthur took his son's hand and situated it on the side of his stomach where the kicking was the strongest. Arthur felt the baby flutter around a bit before kicking once again and Ayden was absolutely beaming.

"I can't wait for you to come home! I promise, I'll be the best big brother that you will ever have in your whole entire life!" Ayden said to Arthur's stomach.

Alfred and Arthur smiled warmly.

Ayden would be an excellent older brother.

* * *

><p>His insides were burning.<p>

They were twisting and turning and tearing.

Arthur grunted in pain and writhed in the sheets, his cries of agony disturbing Alfred. The American instantly woke up, realizing his lover was in pain by the sheer grunts and constant whimpers. But he had no clue what to do.

The Englishman gripped the sheets, trying to withstand it but ended up yelling a bit, no longer sure of how much more he would be able to endure. A fine layer of sweat began to gather on Arthur's body. The door to their bedroom then creaked open, revealing a rather tired Ayden.

"Father, Papa, what's wrong?" the child's voice could barely be heard over Arthur's yells.

"T-Take care of Ayden…" Arthur grit out, sitting up with much effort. "H-He is… our main pr-priority. And I won't t-take no for an a-answer…!"

It took nearly all of the Englishman's strength to make it to the bathroom, rejecting Alfred's help. Alfred quickly removed their son from the scene to prevent the child from seeing Arthur in pain any further.

"Father, is Papa all right?" Ayden asked as Alfred lowered the child into his bed.

Alfred knelt down beside it, running his fingers though Ayden's hair, "I think he'll be just fine. He just has a really bad stomachache, is all."

He hated lying to his son.

He truly did.

But it was necessary.

However, how did he even know if he was lying to the boy?

He didn't even know what was wrong with Arthur himself.

Nonetheless, he still knew it was more than a stomachache.

Much more.

"Try to get some rest, Ayden. Everything will be better in the morning," Alfred said, watching as the boy's teal eyes slipped closed.

Alfred travelled back to their room once he made sure Ayden was asleep. The American knocked on the bathroom door, "Arthur? Are you all right?"

No answer.

"Arthur?" Alfred entered the bathroom, only to find his lover sitting on the tile floor, covered in a thin sheet of sweat that seemed to have lessened with emerald eyes filled with despair and disbelief. His eyes were wide and darted across the floor as if he was trying to wrap his mind around something.

"It… it can't be… it's just not true…" Arthur was muttering to himself.

"Artie…?" Alfred stepped further into the room cautiously.

The Englishman, now noticing his presence, turned to him, looking as if he was about to have a total and complete melt down any second.

"I lost her… the baby…" Arthur sniffled, rubbing his hand over his stomach where their daughter once was- where their daughter was supposed to be growing so she could be welcomed into this world with open arms.

"Arthur, how…?"

"I just know! I can feel it! She just… dissolved- _as if she was never there…!"_ Arthur burst into tears the second Alfred sat down beside him and wrapped his arm around the Englishman's shoulder and brought him into a strong and protective, loving hug.

Arthur clutched to Alfred's shirt as if it were his lifeline, soaking it with his tears. Alfred kissed his lover's damp head and held the sunny blonde close; he had to be strong for Arthur. A silent tear trailed down the American's face.

Their child was gone.

As if she had never existed in the first place.

* * *

><p><strong>I'm such a sadist. I hate it when that side takes over me from time to time.<strong>

**So go ahead and say it because I'll agree with you on this chapter (and every other chapter).**

**I'm evil.**

**Please review! They make the world (my world) go round and round!**

**Arigatou!**

**Hasta la Pasta~**


	5. Judgment

**Hey everyone! Here's the next chapter! I hope you enjoy it! I figured since I was done with it early, I might as well update it and share it with you all! Many thanks to those who favorited, story alerted and reviewed my story! They do not go unnoticed! I greatly appreciate it! Please keep them coming~**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia and I never ever will even though it's been my lifelong dream.**

**Warnings: USxUK, Spamano, Franada, dark, angst**

* * *

><p><strong>Clarity<strong>

**Chapter Five**

**Judgment**

Matthew woke with a start, his eyes wide and his heart pounding. He could not escape the fear coursing through him as the room he shared with Francis grew ice cold. Francis continued to sleep, not noticing the rapidly dropping temperature but Matthew trembled almost violently.

He knew it was there.

He could sense it.

"Matt" is what it liked to call itself. The Canadian's stomach lurched at the thought that it considered itself to be human- and it chose a name so close to his own. Matthew hated that thing. It was destroying everything he knew and loved.

It was seated in a chair by the window, its silhouette being the only way to see it except for the moon lighting up a few of his features. Matt was sitting with its legs crossed and its hands folded in its lap- its posture was arrogant, haughty almost.

"It's been a while, hasn't it, Mattie?" it stood, smirking as it called Matthew the nickname Alfred gave him.

"I knew if I saw you again it would be too soon," Matthew growled.

"Yes, I know. We're linked, remember? Ah, but how could you forget? You've seen everything- or at least felt- what I've been doing," Matt stepped further into the moonlight, his eyes giving off an eerie glow.

Matthew glared.

"I wouldn't waste your time dealing with me, Mattie. I believe you have familial matters to attend to."

"What did you do?" Matthew demanded quietly.

"While you've been safely tucked away here in France, I've practically torn your brother's life apart," Matt answered.

Matthew listened intently.

"After all, it wasn't that hard. They are so defenseless while in the womb, I find it laughable. Don't you agree?" Matt smiled as if he were asking an innocent question.

"You're sick," Matthew spat.

"Yes, we seem to have that in common, don't we?"

"I'm nothing like you."

"My dear Mattie, we are but two sides of the same coin. You created me remember? If it wasn't for the hatred you felt for your brother, I wouldn't be here. However, I must thank you for that as well. I am forever in your debt," Matt gave a sarcastic bow.

"Stop this. Now."

"Who said I would oblige?"

Matthew glare became just as frigid as the air in the room. Matt's feigned innocent grin turned evil in a second, revealing while jagged teeth and a dark chuckle rumbled in his throat.

The Canadian didn't exactly know what else to say to the creature before him and he no longer had any control over it since it had separated from his body and became its own being.

"Why are you doing this? They've done nothing to you!"

"Because it's fun- why else would I do it? And it's high time that blithering idiot brother of yours fell. He's such a pitiful country; war, segregation, hatred… I thrive on these things and with him gone, it'll only escalate and I'll become stronger than ever. A new age is dawning, Matthew," Matt replied with a sneer.

"Al was right- you're jealous," Matthew said.

"I am not jealous! In fact, I'm trying to help you become the strongest country in the world! The least you could do is thank me for all the hard work I've put into this!"

"Thank you?" Matthew scoffed. "Why on Earth would I thank you? Hell will freeze over before I do something like that!"

"You're such a fool, Matthew. And to think I was about to share my rise to power with you. This is an offer you can't refuse. Wouldn't you like to become the most powerful country in the world?"

Matthew was about to answer but Matt didn't give him the chance and simply continued, taking that split hesitation as an answer.

"The only way to do that is to take out the strongest one and the others will crumble beneath your feet."

"That'll just cause a World War III with the others," Matthew reasoned.

"Easy pickings."

"What about Arthur?"

"What about him?"

"He's the one who raised Alfred. You think he's going to give up without a fight?" Matthew raised an eyebrow.

Matt's sinister but amused laughter echoed in the room, causing Francis to stir a bit. Matthew glanced at the Frenchman to make sure he didn't wake up.

Matt's laughter died in volume but was still sniggering, "I've put that man into such a pitiful state, he won't even bother interfering in the war."

"You'll lose, you know that, right?"

"And here I thought you were the optimistic one. No matter. I'll get what I want with or without you," Matt turned its back to the Canadian as if it was about to leave. However, it then looked at Matthew out of the corner of its eye.

"Oh and Matthew, there's just one more thing."

Matthew said nothing.

"You're next," Matt then disappeared as a wisp of black mist, leaving the Canadian in the glowing moonlight.

* * *

><p>Alfred felt a small amount of weight crawl on him. He grunted lightly and opened his bleary eyes. His sapphire orbs met the teal ones of his son; Ayden was watching him curiously.<p>

"Father… I'm hungry…" Ayden whispered and his stomach growled to prove his point. "I tried to get some cereal but I couldn't reach it."

Alfred glanced at the clock. 9:30.

They overslept.

"Okay, pal. I'm coming," Alfred rubbed the sleep from his eyes and carefully slid out of bed so as not to disturb Arthur. His lover needed the rest. Brushing back the Englishman's hair with a gentle touch, Alfred left a small kiss on Arthur's tear-stained cheek then turned to Ayden and smiled.

The child latched himself to Alfred as the American carried him towards the kitchen on his back. When they entered the room, Alfred set Ayden on the counter and began making breakfast.

"How did you sleep?" Alfred asked, breaking the silence.

"I slept good. How's Papa?" Ayden started to recall last night's events.

"He's… good. He just had a really bad stomachache."

"Oh okay. I hope my little sister is all right."

Alfred froze for a single breath before placing the two waffles on a late. "I'm sure she's fine…"

Feeling the singe of guilt once more was the American needed to stay silent as he served Ayden. After pouring as much syrup as he desired, the boy ate happily while his father watched him.

"Aren't you going to eat, Daddy?"

"I'm waiting for your papa to wake up."

Ayden nodded, stuffing another piece of fluffy waffle into his mouth and Alfred smiled the smallest of smiles. Just as Ayden was finishing, Arthur entered the kitchen looking much better than last night. His stomach was nearly back to its original size- the bump was disappearing just as their child had.

"How are you feeling, Papa? Is your stomachache better?" Ayden asked as Arthur sat at the table.

The Englishman looked at Alfred, silently asking what the boy meant but Alfred's eyes told him to play along. So that's what he did.

"I'm feeling much better, thank you."

Arthur's smiled was a pained one and Alfred was the only one who noticed. Ayden nodded again, placing his fork on his plate when he was completely done. Alfred removed the pate from the table and placed it in the sink.

Much to Arthur's surprise, Ayden placed his hands to Arthur's stomach and immediately had a confused look on his face, "Papa is she sleeping? She's not kicking."

Alfred nearly dropped the plate to the floor and Arthur's smile fell. Ayden watched his parents' reactions curiously. He didn't understand. Why were they acting so funny?

"Father, Papa, what's wrong?" he looked at Arthur, then to Alfred, and back at Arthur again.

"Ayden, love, there's something we need to tell you and we need you to do your very best to understand, okay?" Arthur sighed, gently removing his son's hands from his stomach as Alfred returned to his seat.

"What's wrong?" the boy wondered.

Arthur looked at Alfred and received a nod from the American. The older man took a deep breath before speaking, "Ayden, there are some things in life that we just can't control. And this is one of them."

Ayden nodded to show he was listening.

"You see, there are times when the baby in a mother's tummy comes too early and can't survive. That is what happened to your sister," Arthur explained.

"My sister came early?" Ayden's face lit up, not really hearing the last part. "She's here? Where is she?"

Arthur bit his lip. Maybe that was too vague.

"Ayden," Alfred sighed sadly and slowly, not really knowing how to break the news to the boy, "that's not what he meant. He said that when babies are born too early… they can't survive."

"Wait… what're you saying?"

"Love," Arthur paused, "your sister isn't here anymore. She's not coming…"

The Englishman made sure to speak in the lightest of tones and dispel any hints of wavering in his voice but the look of absolute astonishment on the child's face was enough to make Arthur reconsider this whole situation.

Ayden hopped down from his seat and backed away from the duo, "You mean… my sister is…?"

Their hesitation was an answer to Ayden. The child's face contorted with sadness as tears welled up in his teal eyes. His heart was pounding lividly and he said the first words that came to mind.

"I hate you!" Ayden then ran to his room, slamming the door. They made no move to go after the boy and thought it best to give him some space. Arthur put his face in his hands, showing his distress while Alfred sat there mutely.

"Was this the right thing to do, Alfred?" Arthur spoke after several minutes.

"He would've figured it out anyway."

* * *

><p>Lovino stared out into the city of Madrid with a bemused look. The sun made his honey eyes glisten with worry as he sighed.<p>

"She's still asleep," Antonio entered their room and paused momentarily when he saw his lover up and out of bed and just gazing out the window. He sauntered over to the Italian and put his hands on the man's shoulders.

"Lovi, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," Lovino answered in a soft tone.

Antonio raised an eyebrow; something was definitely troubling the Italian. Lovino hardly ever spoke in a soft voice except for when he was speaking to Ilaria or to someone else when he was in a really good mood- and even the latter was rare.

"You're such a bad liar," Antonio said. "Tell me what is bothering you, _mi amor._ Maybe I can help fix it."

"Nothing- I just have a bad feeling," Lovino answered but mentally scolded himself for giving in so easily. Why was it that when Antonio spoke Spanish he was nothing but putty in the man's hands?"

"_Por qué?"_

More Spanish.

More of that putty feeling.

More giving in.

"I don't know…" Lovino sighed. "I just can't seem to get rid of it…"

"I'm sure everything will be fine, _mi corazón._ You're probably tired. We had a long day yesterday," Antonio kissed the Italian softly on the cheek and caused the latter to blush lightly.

Lovino nodded. Maybe Antonio was right (not that he would ever admit it). Perhaps he was just tired from the flight back home. They did get home really late… Jet lag did wonders to people… but, as they eased themselves back into bed and into the morning, remnants of those feelings still lingered and stole his thoughts away.

* * *

><p>A scream jolted them awake.<p>

"Mama! Papa!"

The duo rushed into their daughter's room and Antonio tore the door open to find Ilaria crying in her bed and the curtains fluttering in the wind from the morning breeze. Colored pages of animals and drawings of their family drifted from the air to the ground and the room was cold despite the sunshine flooding the room. Lovino went to calm their weeping daughter while Antonio looked out the window and scanned the area near Ilaria's bedroom window.

The Spaniard was baffled. There was not a single sign of a forced entry or a struggle- the floor was clean of broken glass or footprints and everything was neatly in place besides the scattered papers.

Ilaria hugged Lovino tightly and continued crying. The Italian comforted the child as best he could until the tears were erased and the sobs were nothing but small whimpers of fear.

"Whatever was here," Antonio sighed, "it's gone now."

He turned towards his family and sat next to them on the bed, placing his hand on Ilaria's head to reassure her. Lovino ignored his intensified feelings from earlier as he felt fear leak into his body. Whatever was here was the cause of these feelings.

He was sure of it.

"Ilaria, _mi hija,_ what happened?" Antonio brushed the girl's hair from her golden eyes.

She trembled as Lovino continued to hold her, hiccupping a few times before speaking, "There was a bad man here… H-He was going to hurt me…!"

"What did he look like?" Lovino pressed gently, deeply concerned for the girl.

"He had blonde hair and teeth like a monster…" Ilaria replied.

"Anything else?" Antonio wondered.

"He had purple eyes."

* * *

><p>When Matthew thought it was a decent enough time, he called his brother and his heart rate increased with the prolonging dial tone. Why was it taking so long for them to answer? Could they still be sleeping? He glanced at the clock.<p>

It was already 12:30 so that meant it was 11:30 back in England.

"_Hello?"_

"Hey, Al," Matthew seemed a little taken aback. "I'm surprised you're awake."

"_Thank your nephew,"_ the Canadian could hear the smile in his brother's voice.

Matthew smiled in response, "How's everything at home?"

Silence.

"Um… Al?"

"_Everything's fine, Mattie. Don't worry."_

"But I do worry. That's why I asked."

Another pause.

"_Mattie… we were going to tell everyone at the next world meeting- Arthur got pregnant again."_

"That's great, Al! Congratulations!" Matthew beamed.

"…_you didn't let me finish…"_ Alfred said desolately.

Matthew's mood was immediately dampened, "W-What happened?"

"_He lost the baby last night."_

The Canadian clenched the phone tightly as his eyes became dark. So that's what it meant.

'_They are so defenseless while in the womb, I find it laughable. Don't you agree?'_

Matthew shook his head, trying to be rid of the words Matt spoke last night, "How far along was he?"

"_Four months,"_ Alfred replied in a calm voice though his Canadian brother knew he was anything but.

And, unlike Alfred, Matthew was seething- how dare that abomination-? But, then suddenly, Matthew was calmer than the gentle morning breeze drifting across the land. He finally realized something.

This was his fault.

All of it.

He was the cause of this. Although he did not know it at the time when he was a child and had made a pact with Matt. If only there was some way to fix things…

"I'm so sorry, Al…" Matthew sighed, removing his glasses and covered his eyes with his hand.

"_It's not your fault. You don't need to apologize. Things like this happen all the time- there's nothing we can do about it."_

Matthew could tell that his brother was trying to overcome this but the flimsy façade he was putting up was fading fast. Matthew figured that Arthur must've been hit harder by this than any one of them.

"How is Ayden?"

"_Upset,"_ Alfred replied. _"He hasn't been out of his room since breakfast. That was at 9:45 this morning. We tried talking to him earlier but he just ignored us."_

"And Arthur?"

"_He's hanging in there… we all are."_

"I'm so sorry, Al…"

"_Don't apologize. Like I said- these things happen."_

But this was intentional, Matthew thought. All the Canadian could think to do was apologize for all the things he had done, for all the pain Matt was causing and was going to cause.

_It's up to me to fix this,_ he said to himself. _And only me._

Francis then entered the room, fully dressed and silently told Matthew that he was going to run a few errands. He kissed the Canadian on his head and left.

"_So how are you and Francis doing?"_ Alfred asked, changing the subject.

"We're good," Matthew let out a small sigh but stopped short when his breath could be seen as a misty cloud, indicating a significant drop in the room temperature.

When Alfred received no further response after that, he questioned, _"Mattie? Everything okay?"_

"Yeah. I just have some business to take care off. I'll have to talk to you later, Al," Matthew said, then hung up after saying goodbye.

He turned to face the black mist forming in the room.

* * *

><p>Ayden stared out his bedroom window from where he was laying on his bed. He was hurting now more than ever. The boy thought it was from losing his little sister. But he knew it wasn't from that. It was what he said to his parents when they told him his sister came early.<p>

He said he hated them.

Hate…

What did that word even mean?

What _is_ hate?

It sounded awful.

Truly awful.

The look on his parents' faces told him so.

_I should apologize…_ Ayden thought. _But maybe they're asleep… it's already night time…_

The boy slipped out of his room and down the stairs. He was relieved to find his parents' talking quietly on the couch, both having serious looks on their faces. He wondered what they were discussing. Was it about him and what he said earlier?

He hoped it wasn't.

"Father? Papa?" Ayden spoke meekly.

Sapphires and emeralds met his teal ones.

"Yes, love?" Arthur watched the boy as Ayden made his way towards them.

Ayden sat himself in the Englishman's lap, "I'm really sorry about what I said earlier. I didn't mean it- and I never ever will. I was just mad…"

"It's all right," Arthur nodded and smiled, bringing their son closer.

"Don't sweat it," Alfred grinned, mussing the child's already disheveled hair.

* * *

><p><strong>So they made amends and everything's a little brighter. For now :D<strong>

**Please review! They make (my) world go round and keep me from passing out in the middle of the night from staying up late XD**

**Arigatou!**

**Hasta la Pasta~!**


	6. Family

**I have no excuse that is acceptable (besides school) for this being as late as it is. I've had zero inspiration for this fic though, for some odd reason. Fear not, for it has returned to me (after I finished my Spamano fic) and I will continue this story. This chapter is short but I hope you enjoy nonetheless :)**

**Warnings: USxUK**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. Must I spell it out?**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Six<strong>

**Family**

Arthur watched his husband and child sleep in the darkness of the room, the moon giving its light. The Briton needed this moment to clear his head… to think things through. He studied the features of the duo whilst lost in his own thoughts, already having memorized each and every similarity (and difference) the two shared despite Alfred's arguments of how much the Englishman and the boy were alike.

Arthur reached out to touch his son's face with the softness of a floating feather and started naming each characteristic that he saw in Ayden that belonged to both of them inside his head.

His nose.

Alfred's hair.

His hands.

Alfred's lips.

Their eyes.

Ayden's eyes were the perfect combination of his and Alfred's, giving them an unrealistic shade of teal which changed colors frequently. No matter how much Arthur saw of himself in the boy, he would see Alfred more, much to his amusement and none to his surprise.

He wondered…

What would their daughter have looked like?

Who would she have favored more?

Arthur or Alfred?

Or would she have been like Ayden- a perfect combination of them both?

He wished he knew instead of being left with nothing more than shattered mirror of a broken future and with no means to fix what they had to look forward to.

Arthur's hand drifted to his stomach and began rubbing small circles on his now flat abdomen. Tears made their damp paths down his face and onto the pillow. He missed her... he longed to feel her kicking again, even just that small flutter of life was enough to make him smile and heart pound with joy.

His emerald eyes slipped closed, falling into a restless and dreamless slumber.

* * *

><p>Arthur shifted in the sunlight that was leaking through the curtains and sat up, noticing both Alfred and Ayden were out of bed. He stepped out of the room and into the kitchen where he expected to find his family but it was surprisingly empty save for the plate of breakfast resting on the counter.<p>

Hearing the sounds of laughter, he travelled to the window and smiled at the sight. Father and son were in the yard tossing the baseball to one another, one of Alfred's favorite pass times. Ayden cheered as he caught the ball, quickly throwing it back to Alfred who in turn gently pitched it back to the boy's gloved hand.

"I caught it! I caught it!" Ayden bounded up and down happily. "Did you see that, Father?"

"I sure did!" Alfred grinned. "Now let's see if you can throw it back just as well."

Ayden did as he was told, throwing it as hard as he could back to the American. Alfred had a bit of a surprised if not beaming look when he heard and felt the ball solidly hit the glove.

"That was a great throw!" Alfred laughed and Ayden joined him.

The Englishman opened the back door and leaned on the doorframe, continuing to watch the two and catching Ayden's attention.

"Papa, good morning!" Ayden clumsily scrambled up the patio and hugged Arthur.

"Good morning, love," Arthur placed his hand atop Ayden's head and mussed the sandy blonde locks.

Alfred jogged over to his husband, placing a warm kiss on the latter's lips while Ayden covered his eyes and making gagging noises, causing Alfred and Arthur to smile in their kiss. The duo purposely prolonged it, their smiles growing wider when Ayden turned around.

"Gross!" the child stuck his tongue out in disgust.

The American and Englishman parted, Alfred laughing at his son's reaction.

Arthur felt his spirits fly high with relief. It was as if last night never happened.

He wanted it to stay that way.

* * *

><p>The family of three was now in the living room, Ayden and Alfred playing video games while Arthur was seated on the couch reading a novel. Ayden suddenly paused the game, earning a confused look from his American father.<p>

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, it's just I had a dream last night," the child answered, placing the controller on the floor and looking back and forth between his parents to try and grab their attention.

Alfred followed suit and rested the controller on the floor and Arthur wedged the bookmark in between the pages and listened intently.

"What kind of dream?" Arthur wondered.

"It was really weird. I… I saw my sister- my little sister," Ayden replied, a perplexed look dancing across his features.

"Y-You did?" Arthur pressed, trying not to stumble over his words.

Ayden nodded and stood up, stretching out his arms beside him with his eyes sparkling, "Papa, Father, I wish you could've seen her. She was so beautiful! She had wings! And they were so big and so soft! I got to touch them and everything!"

This left the duo utterly stupefied and at a complete loss for words.

"And," Ayden continued, "she looked like Papa- she really did! But she had brown hair instead of blonde."

"Did she say what her name was?" Alfred questioned, deciding to throw one of his own out there.

"No. She said you didn't have the chance to name her," Ayden shook his head sadly, his arms falling to his side. "But she said she wished she could've met you before she left."

Arthur's breath hitched in throat upon hearing this and clutched at his stomach, his heart swell with joy and anguish. Their little girl was okay. Arthur's eyes then met Alfred's when he felt the American place his hand on top of his with a smile accompanying the comforting gesture.

"Well, that was some dream you had," Arthur managed to say, smiling as best he could.

Ayden nodded again and puffed his cheeks out in defiance, "And then she told me to be good like she was the older sister or something."

Alfred laughed a little, "That's just because she was looking out for her brother."

"I know," Ayden sighed. "She told me to tell you that she loves and misses us very much. She loves us a whole lot and she can't wait to see her again."

"We love her, too," Arthur replied.

* * *

><p>"I'll be back," Alfred said with a piece of paper in his hand. "Is this everything we need from the store?"<p>

Arthur nodded, "Are you sure you don't want us to go with you? It's late."

"I'll be fine. Besides, Ayden's already asleep. There's no need to wake him," Alfred kissed the top of his lover's hair as his farewell.

"Be careful."

"Always am," and with that, the American left, leaving Arthur alone in the living room.

Not fifteen minutes had passed before Arthur decided to call it a night, climbing into bed next to their son who had crawled into their bed without the Englishman's notice. The child snuggled into Arthur, a small smile painting itself along his face. Said Briton held the boy close, slipping into sleep, failing to notice the pair of eyes watching them from the window.

* * *

><p>It was so… <em>hot.<em>

Burning, even.

Arthur kicked off the covers in an attempt to alleviate the heat but it only became hotter to the point of suffocation. Emerald eyes flittered open, widening at the flames licking at the walls and outside the window. The Englishman scooped up the now fully awake Ayden and hurried out of bed.

"Papa, what's happening?" Ayden cried, holding onto the man tighter.

"Ayden, just keep your head down and out of the smoke!" Arthur ordered and the child did as he was told, burying his face in the crook of Arthur's neck, holding on for dear life.

Arthur then busted through the door, hastily jumping back when part of the roof collapsed right in front of him. He leapt over the obstacle and continued down the hall, wary of the flames scurrying up the house like a rabid squirrel. The floor suddenly gave way underneath them, and the duo hit the floor with a hard _thud _with Arthur making sure that he landed first.

The Englishman grunted in pain as the air left his body in a rush and coughed as he tried to catch his breath. He tried to ignore the pain throbbing in his back, attempting to gather his bearings and stand up as quickly as he could.

Ayden shook Arthur, "Papa, are okay?"

"I'm fine," Arthur stumbled to his feet and lifted the boy into his arms again. They both began coughing heavily, the smoke filling their lungs, thus slowing down the escape process. He fell to his knees at the top of the staircase, growing weaker and weaker by the second.

Ayden was limp in his parent's arms but still maintained his strong hold on Arthur's clothing, fearing, even in unconsciousness, for their very lives. The Englishman subsided, his world going dark within the bright fire and choking smoke.

* * *

><p>Alfred arrived at his house, rushing out of the car upon seeing the burning building. The firemen gathering outside the house held the American back, "You can't go in, Alfred!"<p>

"My family is in there! Let me go!" Alfred struggled to fight past the two men.

"You can't go in! You're not suited for the job!" one shouted.

"I'm going in whether you like it or not!"

"Stay back!" the other demanded.

* * *

><p>"Arthur!" a voice called, garbled and slow.<p>

The Englishman's eyes batted open, while a coughing fit overtook him, beginning to feel lightheaded again, "Matthew? Matthew, where are you?"

In spite of his blurry vision, Arthur was able to make out a person coming towards them and said person grabbed his shoulders firmly with a concerned and determined gaze, lifting him into a sitting position.

"Arthur, we have to go now!"

"…Matthew?" he mumbled, now not so sure of the identity of his rescuer.

"Come on!" the Canadian hoisted Arthur to his feet and led him down the stairs. Matthew pulled the duo back as another ceiling casualty rained down upon them.

"Keep moving!" the Canadian ordered, dodging large areas of fire while trying to keep Arthur stable in his arms.

Arthur sluggishly moved along, attempting to comply with Matthew's commands and not fall into unconsciousness.

"Get down!" Matthew shielded them with his own body as the roof came crashing down on them.

* * *

><p>The roof folded in on itself, the flames roaring high into the velvet sky, eating up what was left of the house with the pillars of smoke claiming the night.<p>

"No!" Alfred yelled as the crackling of flames echoed throughout the air.

"Stay here!" his coworker commanded as he helped the others douse the fire.

Alfred didn't even hear the latter's orders. The American fell to his knees, staring at the ground in disbelief as the orange and terrifying glow dissipated into nothing, leaving nothing but a pile of burnt wood, ash and fragments of glass. He trembled, emotions overwhelming.

"We didn't find anything," he overheard one of the firemen report. "We can only guess the worst."

_No… _Alfred thought with conviction. _They can't be dead… I refuse to believe it… they just…! Can't be!_

But… the longer the men discussed it… the more unstable his faith became.

"Alfred, I'm so sorry," one of his close friends, Caleb, placed his hand upon the American's shoulder.

Alfred gave no reply.

* * *

><p><strong>Once again, sorry that this was so late. I hope you forgive me! I will try to continue with my weekend updates (unless I hit a brick wall again).<strong>

**Please review!**

**Arigatou~**

**This is Crimson signing off!**

**Hasta la Pasta!**


	7. Sleeping Beauty

**It's short. Again! Sorry about that, I hope you enjoy though.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia for the hundredth time. (Damn copyright people)**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Seven<strong>

**Sleeping Beauty**

Alfred sat on his knees, clutching at the blades of grass as his vision started to blur with oncoming tears. All of his sadness, all of his distress, all of his love was summed up into a salty liquid that trailed down his face and dripped onto the grass. The American sniffled quietly, contradicting the roaring thundering of his heart.

"Alfred…?" Caleb trailed off, not knowing how his coworker would react.

"Please…" Alfred whispered, crestfallen, "I just wanna be left alone…"

The fireman nodded and left the American's side. What seemed like hours to Alfred were only minutes. He lost track of how long he sat there, simply existing without a purpose- without a family. He had lost everything once again, only this time he would remember it.

A small, muffled noise could be heard like the scraping of wood and grunts of effort from the wreckage. The rubble moved only slightly before settling and continuing again.

"Wait! I think we've got something here! Come and give me a hand!" a fireman called that was sifting through the debris.

Alfred looked up, his ocean orbs hopeful.

A group was now aiding in the move, tossing pieces of burnt and charred wood out of the way. Heavy coughs could be heard in unison with sighs of relief and looks of astonishment. Two figures rose from the remains, one supporting the other and the latter carrying a small bundle in his arms.

The duo tried to walk forward and was quickly assisted in doing so, making their way towards the ambulance. Alfred watched them, shakily rising to his feet. His heart was pounding in his ears, begging him that he was right for if he was wrong, it would shut down.

"Arthur…?"

The shorter one with the bundle in his arms turned upon hearing the name, showing emerald eyes filled with reprieve. He ran towards Alfred, falling into the American's arms and trembled lightly with sobs as tears dampened the American's shirt, "Alfred…"

"I thought I lost you…!" Alfred buried his face into the Englishman's sooty blonde hair and kissed it, refusing to let his family go and risk losing them.

The couple felt a small stir of movement between them and met teal orbs staring at them with confusion and weary curiosity. "Father…? Papa…?"

"Hey there, champ," Alfred smiled softly as he placed his hand atop Ayden's mop of sandy golden locks.

"You're okay…" Ayden's voice was raspy. "Uncle Matthew came and helped us, Father…" the boy fell back into unconsciousness soon after that, a smile planted on his face.

Alfred scanned the area for his brother but frowned when he couldn't find him. Where had the Canadian gone in such a hurry?

Matthew scrambled away from the scene, refusing help from paramedics and the other firemen, insisting that he was fine and he would be heading straight home. A minor coughing outburst made him stop walking for a few seconds and as he was catching his breath, a figure stood in the shadows, watching him.

"Bravo. I admire your brave and rather stupid decision," the steady sound of clapping could be heard. "You know I need you to stay alive until I find a suitable body. You're here as a last resort."

Matthew glowered at the entity before him with all the hatred that could ever be contained in his heart, ignoring the last comment, "You've gone too far this time! They almost died!"

"I know, wasn't it great?" Matt smirked, stepping out of the darkness. His white animalistic teeth glistened in the moonlight as his mauve eyes lit up with disturbing excitement. "However, I am a bit surprised that you managed to get over here so fast. Tell me, how do you do it? What is your glorious secret that you somehow save everyone that I am attacking?"

"That's for me to know and for you to find out. Just be content with the fact that I can sense your presence and you can sense mine," Matthew spat venomously.

"Suit yourself. Besides, I'm not done with them or you so this is only the calm before the storm."

"Why can't you just leave them alone? Take me and be done with it!" Matthew demanded.

"But, Matthew," Matt placed his hands over his heart in mock hurt, "I'm only doing what you asked me to do all those years ago. You created me and gave me the order. I'm simply taking care of your brother, like you wanted me to and this is my way of doing it. I've always found it fun to toy with my prey. Plus, taking you right away would be too easy. I like to earn my prizes and you are no prize. You're weak and pathetic and far too naïve for me and I have my sights set on a certain country."

"I was stupid back then! Now I'm telling you to leave them alone! And I swear if you _ever _lay a finger on my nephew, it'll be the end of you!"

Matthew looked contemplative before his expression relaxed, "Of course. Whatever you say, my lord."

"And you'd better not be saying that just so you can shut me up. I will find you if you don't live up to your word," Matthew's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"And what do you plan on doing when you find me? Killing me? Oh, please, Matthew, use the brain you were blessed with. I am neither alive nor dead."

"You knew what the hell I meant!" Matthew ground out through clenched teeth, his blood beginning to boil despite his usual gentle demeanor.

Matt simply chuckled before disappearing into black mist.

* * *

><p>"What's for breakfast? I'm starving!" Ayden hopped onto a chair in the kitchen, a grin illuminating his face.<p>

"Mind your manners, Ayden," Arthur reprimanded lightly as he glanced at the boy from the corner of his eye while moving about the kitchen.

Matthew smiled softly while waving his hand dismissively, "It's all right, Arthur. No big deal. We're having pancakes. You like them, right, Ayden?"

"I sure do! I help Father make them all the time and he says that I'm getting better at it!" Ayden grinned his father's grin.

"Well, would you like to help me this morning?" Matthew offered, beginning to grab the necessary items to prepare the meal.

"Yeah! I would love to!" Ayden bounded from his seat and onto the little step stool Matthew pulled out so the boy could reach the counter.

"Speaking of your father, is he still sleeping?" Arthur looked towards the stairs.

"More than likely," Matthew nodded. "He and Francis have a knack for sleeping in."

There was a moment of silence before Arthur decided to break it.

"Is there anything you need me to do, Matthew?" Arthur wondered, feeling like he was simply taking up space in the room.

"No, it's okay. Ayden and I've got everything taken care of, right?" Matthew smiled at his nephew.

"Right!" Ayden nodded determinedly. "Papa, these will be the best pancakes you will ever have in your whole entire life! I promise! And you'll never want to eat anything else ever even if it's something you really like because you'll be eating my awesome pancakes!"

"I'm sure they will be, love," Arthur laughed a little at the boy's declaration, chuckling a bit at how much Ayden had reminded him of the sleeping American.

Another pause settled in the room and once again Arthur broke it, "We really do appreciate that you're letting us stay here with you in your home, Matthew. It's been over two weeks now; are you sure it's not too much trouble with us staying here?"

Matthew could only smile as he helped Ayden stir the pancake batter, "Arthur, I told you once and I'll tell you again: it's nothing to worry about. We've got plenty of room. You're family now and we'd do anything to help. Besides, it's nice that we get to see you guys more often. Living in different countries tends to be a bit of a setback."

Arthur nodded, smiling as well, "Ayden asks about you two all the time."

"Now I get to see you two every day and we'll play video games and go to the park and get lots of sweets!" Ayden continued working diligently on stirring the batter.

"That's right! You know we'll have fun with my favorite nephew!" Matthew ruffled the boy's hair lovingly, causing more strands of Ayden's hair to stick out from their original positions.

"How can you have a favorite nephew if I'm the only one?" Ayden peeked up from under Matthew's hand.

"It's all the more reason for me to love you even more than I do now," Matthew smiled.

Francis then stepped into the kitchen, behind Matthew and motioned to the two of them to remain quiet as he snuck up on the Canadian quietly. Francis tiptoed gently towards Matthew, about to embrace the other man (and hoping to startle the Canadian just a tad) when Matthew suddenly spoke.

"Don't even think about it."

Francis sighed, _"Mon amour, s'il vous plait!"_

"I don't think so," Matthew waved the wooden spoon that was covered in pancake batter back and forth in, emphasizing the rejection and threatening to flick it in Francis's face. "And don't say you're 'love' deprived because you're not."

The Frenchman sighed again before mumbling something in French.

"You're disgusting," Arthur's nose wrinkled slightly in disgust at his old friend/rival.

"_Mon ami, _you know you wouldn't have it any other way," Francis had a smirk beginning to grace his face.

"Quite the contrary," Arthur raised his cup of tea to his lips as he leaned against the counter and took a sip before continuing, "Oh and Alfred, you might as well join us. It's not going to work."

"Aw man!" could be heard from down the hall as the American walked into the kitchen, pouting childishly.

Ayden laughed, "Father, you got busted!"

Alfred sighed, "Don't rub it in."

The child continued laughing which resulted in a playful banter between the two. Ayden completely forgot about the pancakes so Matthew continued the preparation while the argument between father and son remained strong.

"Alfred, you're arguing with a four year old," Arthur raised an eyebrow at the American.

"He started it!" Alfred and Ayden pointed to each other in unison.

"I honestly think you don't want me to settle this so I suggest you do so on your own," Arthur took another drink of his tea nonchalantly.

Father and son sighed, grumbling.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that. What did you say?" Arthur looked at the duo.

"U-Uh, nothing! Nothing at all! We were just saying how wonderful and great you are!" Alfred scratched the back of his head nervously.

"Y-Yeah! And we were hoping that you could make a big dinner for us when we get back home!" Ayden followed suit, and this faint slip of the tongue earned a pleading look from Alfred at the mention of Arthur cooking.

An anxious smile danced on Ayden's face as he repeated his father's nervous habit.

"Hmm," Arthur hummed in a bit of amusement. "Interesting. I think I'll pass on dinner. I don't feel like cooking at all."

Alfred quietly breathed a sigh of relief.

"You're safe," Arthur began, "…for now."

Alfred nearly froze at the words, "B-But you love too much!"

"Who told you that?" Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Because surely I didn't."

"Hey! That's cruel!" Alfred countered.

"I'm only teasing you, dear, calm down," Arthur rolled his eyes playfully. "And you say I take everything far too seriously."

"You do," were Alfred's, Matthew's, and Francis's replies.

"Oh, sod off, who asked you anyway?" Arthur growled lowly.

The conversation was interrupted by a phone call and it was one that Francis went to answer. The Frenchman listened to the conversation, his expression growing more unnerving by the second. Francis quickly hung up, earning confused looks from the others in the room.

"What's wrong? Is everything all right?" Matthew wondered.

"Ilaria's been kidnapped."

* * *

><p><strong>Uh oh.. what'll happen next? Review to find out faster!<strong>

**Thanks for reading!**

**This is Crimson signing off!**

**Hasta la Pasta~**


	8. Apprehension

**Gah. Words cannot describe how sorry I am for the wait. Inspiration for this story has been... rather low. Anyway, I got the next chapter out and the shortness was imperative. Trust me. Hope you enjoy!**

**Warnings: Spamano, language, etc.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia**

* * *

><p><strong>Clarity<strong>

**Chapter Eight**

**Apprehension**

Those in the room stood in stunned silence and the words hung in the hair hauntingly. Neither had the courage to break it so Matthew stepped to the plate.

"Kidnapped?" his voice barely rose above a whisper. "When did it happen?"

"Last night," Francis replied. "Lovino's determined to go out and search for her but Antonio is trying to keep him calm. It isn't working though."

"Who was that on the phone?" Arthur questioned.

"Ludwig," Francis replied. "He's at Antonio's house with Feliciano to help Antonio in stopping Lovino from doing anything reckless. He told me to tell you and Alfred to keep Ayden close and never let him leave your sight. We can only suspect that whoever took Ilaria will be coming after Ayden as well."

Arthur and Alfred visibly tensed while Ayden glanced around at the adults in confusion.

"What's going on? What happened to Ilaria?" the boy's concern for his best friend was depicted in his small voice. He tugged on Alfred's leg and repeated his earlier question.

Alfred only looked at Arthur for an answer but was met with knowing emerald eyes.

"She was taken from her parents," Alfred simply said and was willing to go into no further explanation.

Ayden's teal eyes still revealed that he did not fully understand but nodded nonetheless.

"They said to keep a watchful eye on Ayden for they fear whoever kidnapped Ilaria is making Ayden their next target," Francis warned and caught the defiant look igniting within Arthur's emerald eyes.

"Over my dead body," the Englishman growled lowly.

"Don't worry, you're safe here," Matthew said, placing his hand on Arthur's shoulder. This earned a nod in thanks from said man.

_If this is Matt's doing… I can't allow them to be hurt. Not again, _Matthew thought with conviction.

* * *

><p>Small whimpers escaped from the frightened child. Her auburn curls of hair were splayed out into a mess and her amber eyes were full of absolute fear. She sniffled as the tears trailed down her round face and she struggled to get her tiny wrists and ankles free from the ropes.<p>

Where was she? Where were her parents? She wanted to go home!

Being unable to speak past the tape sealing her mouth, she scurried into a corner of the dark room, avoiding the single overhead lamp dangling from the ceiling. Hearing a door open and close along with footsteps drawing closer to her made her cringe even further in the corner.

She silently prayed for her parents to come for her.

"You're awake," the voice which she remembered far too well chuckled darkly. "It's about time, too. I was beginning to worry that you had inhaled too much chloroform."

Staying as far away from the man as possible when he stepped into the light, Ilaria sniveled and turned away. She didn't want to see those sinful amethyst eyes. They were born of the worst possible nightmare and now it was one she would never wake up from.

Matthew was so sweet and quiet when she first met him. Why was he being mean to her now? What had she done to him? She didn't understand…

The man's canine teeth glimmered in the light as he grinned at the petrified four-year-old. He was enjoying this far too much.

"Don't be alarmed, child. I won't hurt you… yet," he added the last bit with sick amusement. "For now, I'm going to get Ayden. But first, I'll need a temporary host. I won't be able to maintain this form for long."

Her head perked at the name of her best friend and her muffled pleas caused Matt to at least hesitate for a split second if only to hear the chorus of her begging and falling tears merge together in a fraught sonata.

* * *

><p>Antonio entered the bedroom as quietly as he could but he knew Lovino had heard him. The Italian had hardly moved all day, let alone eat or sleep. The Spaniard refused to let his lover go out and look for their lost daughter (it was actually an order from the authorities). It was too risky to let the Italian go off on his own even if Antonio was itching to go out and search as well.<p>

"Lovi," Antonio began, testing the waters of Lovino's mood, "are you hungry?"

This only earned him silence. In truth, the Italian was hungry—but he couldn't bring himself to eat anything. It simply wouldn't stay down and everything tasted bitter to him for some odd reason. He had constant rolls of anxiety and nausea so why bother?

"No," Lovino rasped. "I'm not hungry."

"All right," Antonio nodded, moving towards his lover and sat on the edge of the bed Lovino was currently curled up on.

The Italian didn't even consider looking over at the Spaniard.

"Lovi, please talk to me. I don't like it when you shut me out," Antonio ran his fingers through Lovino's dark hair which sparked no reaction. "Lovi?"

"There's nothing to talk about. I just want our daughter home—nothing more and nothing less. It's too fucking quiet without her here and I can't take it," Lovino answered, feeling the tears burn his eyes.

He thought he'd run dry of the annoying liquid that portrayed his breaking heart.

"Don't worry, Lovi. I'm sure we'll find her," Antonio was trying to be the forever optimistic one.

"But what if we don't?" Lovino shouted, shooting up from the position he was currently in and the tears flowed freely. "I'd _die _if we didn't find her, don't you understand that?"

Pulling the Italian close, Antonio hugged his lover in his strong arms with the intentions of bringing Lovino comfort and let the latter release his pain. Lovino grabbed fistfuls of Antonio's shirt and continued to cry, not knowing what else to do.

* * *

><p>Matthew was the only one awake in the entire house. His brother's family was fast asleep and so was Francis and this gave the Canadian some time to think. There was no doubt in his mind that Matt was responsible for Ilaria's disappearance. All he had to do was find that nuisance of an entity and destroy him.<p>

But how would he be able to do that?

Unable to wallow in the darkness any longer, Matthew slipped out of bed and entered the kitchen quietly. He brewed himself a small pot of coffee (his brother was inevitably beginning to grow on him) and leaned against the counter with a sigh.

Something was nagging at him, telling him that he shouldn't sleep. For if he did…

Before even taking a sip, the mug slipped from his hands and shattered into nothing but porcelain shards. The dark feeling was returning. _It _was coming back. And _it_ would be here any day now.

He had to get Arthur and his family out of here…

Before _it _reared its ugly head.


End file.
